


spider punk.

by anklusmos



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Peter Parker, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Gen, Gen Z humour, Genius Peter Parker, Homeless Peter Parker, IM SORRY OKAY I FEEL BAD ABOUT IT, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Peter is a Little Shit, Peter is a Meme, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Precious Peter Parker, Tags May Change, Team IronMan, because i hate aunt may erasure, but a very light sprinkling dw, but we don't slander teamcap in this good Christian Server, do i care? not rlly lol, everyone's lowkey ooc, i actually can't tag for shit, ill put potential tw at the beginning of the chapters, my bias kinda popped out yikes, no beta we die like men, not too much anyway, she makes many appearances dw, theres a lot of vine references, why is that a tag yall thats just common knowledge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2019-06-26 01:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15653070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anklusmos/pseuds/anklusmos
Summary: “You’re telling me, some spider punk form Queens saved your ass? Twice?”“Not really the point I’m trying to make but… Yeah.”******or, the homeless peter parker au no one asked forrated T for language





	1. CHAPTER 1

 

Slap. Slap. Slap. The rhythmic tapping of his trainers on concrete was all Bucky Barnes could focus on as he jogged down his usual running route. It lasted a little over 20 miles, and cut through the different boroughs of New York city, starting in Manhattan going through Brooklyn and ending in Queens; Had to burn off super soldier energy, right?

The only reason Barnes had gone out was to get away from the chaos that was Stark-no Avengers- Tower. It was starting to get too much. The electric hum in every room was pissing him off, the bright lights in every room was hurting his eyes, Steve’s mother henning, Starks cold glare-

And if he had the chance to stay out of Sam and Clint’s childish and slightly pathetic prank war, then that was just an added bonus.

He was starting his cool down routine (read: wondering around a not-so-friendly part of Queens) trying to get his heart rate to calm down as he slowly made his way back to the tower. Bucky always thought this was the best part of his impromptu runs; He saw it as an opportunity to get reacquainted with the city everyone had told him he grew up in. Things have changed a lot since the 1940s. He knew it was dangerous to just stroll in public with only a knife and handgun as protection regardless whether he was an ex-wanted brain washed assassin or not. James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was an honorary Avenger after all, an easy target for desperate ballsy muggers. _Especially_ in public-

Wait. Where the fuck was he?

 _You had one simple task Barnes_ was all he could think. _Avoid alleyways and stay on the main road._

He sighed deeply and tried to get his bearings.

The Tower was still in sight. Okay. Good. All he had to do was walk towards it and he’ll get there eventually-

“Hey! Little shit! Get back here!” a hoarse voice shouted at him

 _Are they talking to_ me?

Bucky turned around to snarl at the direction of the crude call, when suddenly a small body came bashing in to him at 100 miles an hour

“Fuck! Oh my god mister I’m so sorry sir I’m kinda in a rush I really didn’t mean to run in to you- Holy shit!” they squeaked and dove to Bucky’s left

“You should be shittin’ y’self! I catch y’ here again Imma-“

Bucky finally processed that the extremely intimidating woman was one: not addressing him, and two: after whoever was hiding behind the dumpster next to him

“There a problem ma’am?” Barnes grunted.

“A problem? A problem! If you see a _little fuckin turd_ you tell me! I never want to see that shitbags face _ever again!_ ” She spat.

“Sorry, I haven’t seen anyone around here.” Bucky deadpanned

 The woman continued looking around frantically, her bleach blonde hair flying around and hitting her face as she was ranting.

Finally, she marched away, still muttering angrily to herself. Once the coast was clear the dumpster diver came out of hiding. Their eyes grew wide in recognition after they saw Bucky’s face. “Oh my God! You’re the Winter Soldier! It’s an honour man-”

Bucky finally got a good look at them, and was mildly shocked to see a teenage boy, no older than 16 years old. About 5’7” maybe 5’8” making Bucky completely tower over the boy. He had curly brown hair long enough to reach his eyes that was in desperate need of a haircut, or at least a wash. His face was round, but his eyes had the biggest bags underneath them and his cheek bones were prominent, making him look gaunt. The tip of his nose was dry and flaky, his lips were chapped and his pallor made him almost ghost like. The way his ratty blue jumper hung on him and the way his skinny jeans weren’t quite skinny on him didn’t help his case.  But… he had such an air of wholesomeness that just threw Bucky off completely. He actually reminded Bucky of-

“… Captain America! Sorry Mr. Winter Soldier- Mister Soldier- Mister Barnes- Sergeant Barnes sir wow okay I’m rambling you probably don’t wanna hear about your own team. Are you lost or somethin’?” he asked with a Queens drawl. “You need help getting back to Avengers tower? In Manhattan? It’s the least I could do after you covered for me back there.”

Bucky looked down at the over excited and fanboy teenager. What? Oh yeah, he had to get back. God knows how long he had been gone. The boy was looking at him, waiting for a reply

“That would be really great, thank you…?” Bucky asked cautiously

“Peter,” The boy- Peter- filled in for him

“Peter.” Bucky confirmed. “And its Bucky kid,”

“Sure thing Mr. Bucky sir!”

They walked back to edge of Brooklyn, the whole time the kid was prattling on about some new scientific breakthrough by Tony Stark and Dr. Banner. Bucky was at the tower at the time. He remembered there was a shitload of explosions and quarantine periods until they finally made progress. It did interest him (HYDRA could never brainwash the nerd away), but Peter was talking about the technical complexities that he just couldn’t keep up with.

_Damn this kid wont stop talking_

“Don’t forget to breathe kid,” Was all Bucky said to him.

Peter stopped himself and his cheeks flushed a light pink before starting to profusely apologise

“You hungry?” Bucky cut him off casually. Of course, he was. This boy had all the textbook signs of his body going in to starvation mode. “We can grab something to eat. My treat.”

Peter froze in his tracks. His face was unreadable, but his eyes made it look he was having an internal battle. After a pregnant pause he replied:

“I guess I could eat.”

***

Boy, could that kid eat.

 

Peter scoffed down the cheeseburgers they grabbed from some hole in the wall joint, his appetite seeming to rival Steve’s super soldier one. He made enough chit chat for the both of them.He also made a lot of pop culture references that he diddnt get, but all Bucky had to do was give the occasional hum of agreement before the kid continued rambling

 

“This was really cool Mr. Bucky. Like seriously, I don’t know if you can tell but...I’m freaking the hell out right now. If someone told 14 year old me you the Winter soldier is gone buy you 3 cheeseburgers after he covers for your ass he woulda laughed his face off and called 420 to ask what you're smokin- I’m rambling aren’t I” Peter sighed after cutting himself off, running a hand through his shaggy curls.  “You can grab a cab or somethin’ back to Manhattan from, here right? It would take hours to walk back from here, and it's late.” Peter remarked. He was getting up, starting to throw all their crap away and slyly grabbing the leftovers. Not that Bucky would have stopped him anyway.

 

“Yeah I guess I should. It’s getting late. You wanna split?” Bucky muttered.

 

Peter gave him a solemn smile. “Nah. I gotta get back to Queens, so…”

 

Bucky nodded. “Okay. Was nice meetin’ you kid.” His accent started to slip back.

 

“Right back atcha Mr. Bucky!” The kid cheered as he left the shop.

 

Bucky looked at the kid disappear in the crowd from his window seat. Never had he felt so conflicted about someone before. He rustled through his tracksuit pockets until he found his phone.

 

“Hey, you mind picking me up? I’m in Brooklyn… can’t you track my phone? Old man… Ugh whatever I’m on Bushwick Avenue… near where Alice McKesson used to live... Yeah that’s the same one what’s ya point? Just get your ass here man.”

Surprisingly, he never noticed that dude making observation notes on him.


	2. CHAPTER 2

 

It was a shit day.

Peter woke up late and he missed his train, then he had to sprint to the next station to catch it and avoid being late; Ned was off sick with stupid human flu, Flash was being a bigger dickwad than usual, he didn't have any lunch money and he left his chemistry homework on his desk for the fifth time that month.

And if he had to see Captain America's stupid face one more time he was going to lose it.

"So. You got detention."

Fuck _off_ Captain Patriot

Okay sure, some of those things could have been easily avoided, like he wouldn't have gone to bed so late if he hadn't been patrolling. He shouldn't have been out late patrolling just to prove a point. He should have just put his god damn worksheet in his bag as soon as it was completed, just like May told him to. He shouldn't have sneezed on Ned to be a dick. He should stand up to Flash. He should have packed a lunch.

There were a lot of things Peter wishes he had done that day.

Peter Parker was having a shit day, just like any other human, (even if he wasn't one really) but he knew his aunt, his favourite human of all time, finished early today so he could complain about it over whatever takeout they were having that night. They'd make stupid puns over their food and joke about whatever stupid shit Donald Trump is spewing and discuss whatever was being covered in the news. She'd talk about Spiderman, briefly, almost as a passing comment, and Peter would keep his mouth shut. Peter would change the subject and ask how her day at the hospital was. May would complain about other nurses with no common sense. Eventually, whoever was serving them would give them more free food and they would walk and argue about what they were going to watch on Netflix.

"May, the last time you chose a show it was the most depressing thing I had ever watched. It was Marley and Me kinda sad." Peter sighed  
"Peter you can't compare _making a murderer_ to a film about a dog!" May exclaimed  
"I can and I will! Can't we just watch Friends? Brooklyn 99? Anything but a crime documentary?" He begged.  
"Crime documentaries are educational!" She argued back  
"I don't plan on becoming a racist serial killer, but thank you for trying to stop me anyway." May shoved him lightly in retaliation.  
" _Stop!_ You're gonna make me drop my _croissant_!" Peter cried, even though he physically couldn't loose his grip on their doggy bag. May rolled her eyes at her nephews strange pop culture references, shaking her head softly. She opened her mouth to argue that he wouldn't drop anything ever but closed it quickly. She decided her nephew needed a win after the shit day he's had.  
"Fine, only so you'll stop whining."

Eventually they got back to their cramped apartment, kicking their shoes off and shrugging their jackets off as they walked through the front door. Peter was putting their leftovers in the fridge. May started rummaging around, opening random drawers, before shutting them again.  
"What are you looking for?" Peter called behind him.  
"The batteries in our remotes are really gone this time, I hit it hard like 4 times and nothing's happening. Did you pick up more when I asked you to?"  
Fuck, yeah he did but he used them for his webshooters.  
"Um... No? Sorry it must have slipped my mind," he mumbled.  
May smiled at her nephew, knowing how ditsy he could be. Peter Parker was many things, but organised he was not.  
"It's okay Petey, I'll just run and get a pack. I gotta grab some things anyway. Wanna come with?" She asked.

Deep down Peter knew he should have said yeah. It was late, and they didn't exactly live in a nice part of Queens.

But he was exhausted, and just wanted to watch Brooklyn 99.

He shook his head. "Nah, I might as well finish my essay while your gone. Can you get some ice cream too? No mint or peppermint though please."  
May nodded and kissed Peter on the head before she left.

She had never done that before.

Huh, that's weird. But Peter shrugged it off.

****

Peter knew something was off. He felt it. He knew May should have been back by now, she left 3 episodes ago, the store was only a 10 minute walk away.  
But he shrugged it off.  
He shrugged it off when he heard sirens 6 streets away heading in that direction. They lived in a badish part of Queens, sirens were a regular occurrence. He shrugged it off when he checked his phone and saw no texts or missed calls to ask if he wanted anything else. Maybe she didn't bring that much change with her.

No matter how hard he tried however, he could not shrug off his spidey sense, screaming at him to _check on aunt may!!!!!_

He gave in, he got off his ass and put his hoodie, shoes and web shooters back on. He grabbed a set of keys and started sprinting in the stores direction. The closer he got, the more his spidey sense was stabbing his neck. He didn't need enhanced senses to see those red and blue lights. Right in front of their convenience store. Or the barricade of police officers. Or the white and blue police tape.

Or that body bag, Aunt May's old leather satchel perched on top.

_Dear God. This ain't happening. Please. I'll do anything if it means she is not in there_

Peter wanted to do nothing more than bolt in the other direction, but his feet had other plans- his pace increased the closer he got to the scene, he pushed past the officers, he must have said something that made them part, he walked up to the-

What. The. Fuck.

No...

**  
Peter woke up with a start. Huh. He hadn't had that dream in a few days, he knew it was too good to be true. Peter tended to dream about his biggest fears and regrets; the Vulture, asking the Vultures daughter to homecoming, that time in 2nd grade he peed himself, going to school naked, when he asked Tom Landholl out and got very politely let down, not answering anyone's calls, letting Uncle Bens murderer get away, not picking up fucking batteries that day-

You know. Usual teenage regret.

Okay, Peter didn't dream anymore, he hasn't done that in a year and a half. It was a miracle if he woke up and it wasn't from a nightmare, it was also a miracle if he managed to sleep in the first place.

He took in his surroundings, assessing where he passed out from exhaustion during his patrol. Okay. A nasty, cold damp alley. So anywhere in Queens.

 _Coolcoolcoolcoolnodoubtnodoubtnodoubtnodoubt_.

Peter let out a huff of frustration, praying to any deity listening for his backpack not to have been stolen, and that he was actually near to whatever dumpster he had stuck it on this time.  
"Old habits don't die hard do they Parker," he thought aloud, reminiscing when he would get his backpack stolen while he was on patrol. He couldn't afford to do that anymore.

Thor or someone must have been listening, his backpack was conveniently stuck on to a dumpster at the edge of the alley. He ripped through his webbing and hugged it tight, thankful he could get out of his ghetto home made costume. Not gonna lie, he missed his the suit Mr. Stark gave him back all that time ago, with its heater and an AI that kept him company. But he was being petty. Petty teenagers have a resolve that will never break.

Mr. Stark stopped giving a shit about Peter a long, long time ago.

Anyway. Getting sidetracked. He dug around to look for the cleanest looking jumper and jeans he had, settling on his old Midtown tech jumper and his smallest pair of black skinny jeans. He knew how baggy they were on him but it's not like he could regularly eat when he was homeless. Besides, his stupid non-thermoregulating spider ass needed all the baggy layers it could get. He contemplated whether to put his hoodie on too, but decided against it, thinking that he would look like a scarecrow if he did.

He had just finished rolling up his ghetto-suit and packing it away when someone screeched 3 meters from him

"What the _fuck_ are you doing here hobo scum!?"

Uh oh. Fuck. This is not good. Not cool. All the doubts.

He made the rookie mistake of not checking if this was the back entrance to a club, the odds of that club being a cover for a drug ring that spiderman has taken down were high, the odds that it was run by extremely paranoid drug lords who hated homeless people was even higher. Homeless folk were always getting murdered because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Parker luck™ strikes again.

 _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck._  Peters internal monologue couldn't be more articulate if it tried. If Peter wasn't half spider he would never have been able to outrun the outraged lady. He fumbled zipping his bag up, of course the zipper got stuck, he scrambled to his feet and booked it past her at light speed. He took as many harsh turns and went down as many alleyways and back roads as he could trying to loose her-

_Was she a fucking Olympian track star? How the fuck is she still following him? He was a mutant for gods sake!_

_Oof_! Why is this wall so fleshy?

Peter didn't have much time to actually apologise, he heard the crazy woman's approach footsteps as she turned down their alley. He squealed and dived left. He silently willed her to move on.

Wait. Fleshy wall covered for him? Why?

Before he knew it, drug lord (drug lady?) was stalking away, the clicks of her heels assuring Peter she was a good block away now. Peter came out of his hiding place and finally saw who fleshy wall was.

"Oh my god! You're the Winter Soldier! Wait is it politically correct to still call you that? The Avengers basically had a parking lot fight because you. Wait no Captain America was being a little bitch and didn't want to talk shit through- I heard that spiderman dude whooped your ass though- do you go on missions? Who's your favourite person to work with? Personally I'd want to work with Scarlet Witch. Or even train with Black Widow! What's your arm made of? I always thought titanium, but up close it looks like a titanium alloy, maybe it's a vibranium-titanium alloy? Can you tell Captain America he really pissed me off with his stupid PSAs at school? God! Captain America!"

Peter didn't notice the former assassins calculating stare.

"-you lost or something? You need help getting back to Avengers tower? In Manhattan? It’s the least I could do after you covered for me back there.” Peter offered. Aunt May didn't raise an impolite boy with microscopic dick (dork) energy

The Winter Soldier- Bucky Barnes- Sergeant Barnes stared blankly before coming to his senses.

“That would be really great, thank you…?”  
“Peter,” Peter filled in  
“Peter.” Barnes confirmed. “And it's just Bucky kid,”  
“Sure thing Mr. Bucky sir!"

***

That had been a good day.

He got personally saved by an _Avenger_ , had multiple (one sided) conversations with an avenger and an Avenger bought him freaking dinner!

Well, an honorary avenger... Technicalities you know, what a pain in the ass. But it was nice meeting one of them outside of a battle situation, not being coerced in to fighting for someone else's beliefs.

So after meeting an (honorary) Avenger, it didn't really surprise him when he met him again. On break. From a patrol. Stupid Parker luck.  
He took his mask off and ripped his web shooters off before shoving them in his pocket. He approached the man.

"Hey Mr. Bucky! Remember me? Peter?" He called out to the lost looking figure. God, hadn't this guy heard of Google maps? Oh wait, he's a centurian of course he hasn't.

Bucky Barnes whipped his head around, looking relived to hear a familiar voice.

"Kid. What are you doing here?" He breathed out.  
Peter raised his eyebrow.  
"Uh? I live around here? Born and raised? Dude were you even listening to me the last time? Mr. Bucky? Sir?"  
Bucky's eyes were glazed over, he looked like he was staring in to Peters soul.  
"Bucky?"  
That seemed to snap Bucky out of his stupor.  
"What the hell? What the fuck am I doing in Queens?"  
Peter shrugged in response. "It beats me sir. Y'know you gotta break the habit of wondering around back roads and dingy alleyways," he paused for a second. "I'm not always gonna be here to save your ass!" He joked. In reality he would; Helping the little guy was kinda what Spiderman was for.

Bucky let out a huff of air, Peter took that as some sort of chuckle.  
"I'm not gonna lie to you kid, I have no idea how to get back to Manhattan. Could you help me out again?" Bucky asked quietly.  
Peter's brain short circuited.  
Meep Morp Meep. Did not compute.

_Did an Avenger ask him for help!?_

"Oh my god! Hell yeah! Of course!"

****

Peter did what he did best. Ramble.

He talked about a new paper that the Princess of Wakanda had published, talking all about better and more efficient ways to power train lines using electromagnets made of vibranium. Then he started talking about how he would kill to visit a country as advanced as Wakanda, and how he would kill to see one of the labs. Peter was grateful that Mr. Bucky hadn't said anything about his ghetto-suit, and if he had noticed he had been kind enough not to mention it.  
"You and her would get on like a house on fire," Bucky commented. Peter stared at him, unable to process what Mr. Bucky just said.  
"We would?"  
"Yup," he replied, popping the 'p' "She's just as big of a geek as you are."  
Peters mind was reeling for the rest of their walk. Me? Princess of Wakanda? Not in the same sentence.  
"Okay. Brooklyn Bridge. You should be good to get back from here right?" Bucky nodded in response.  
"Yeah, I know my way from here. Thanks kid." Peter grinned and started walking back.  
"No problem Mr. Bucky sir!" He shouted.

He walked out of his sight in to an alley before pulling his mask out of his pocket and slipping his web shooters back on. He shot a string at the closest building and swung away, continuing his patrol.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a b i t c h to write man. sorry it's been awhile since the last update.  
> speaking of slow updates, im starting my a levels and ngl im already suffering so this chapter will have to suffice until i find the time to write again, maybe 2 weeks?  
> also im british so if anything sounds not american that's why, sorry. (like??? how far is a block???)  
> and yeah biderman is a thing in this if you don't like it stay bothered lmao no ones making u read this 
> 
> shout out to u if u caught all of my b99 references  
> extra shoutout to you if u got the name of my favourite actor in there  
> extra extra shout out if ur actually reading this!!!! ur the best!!!!  
> any constructive criticism is greatly welcomed and appreciated btw, i live on the edge and don't proof read sometimes  
> hope u enjoyed,  
> anklusmos


	3. CHAPTER 3

“You're telling me, some _spider punk_ from Queens saved your ass? Twice?"

 "That's not really the point I'm trying to make, but... Yeah."

 Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes were enjoying a normal Thursday evening at the Avengers (Stark) Tower, chatting in the kitchen. It was one of the rare occasions that no one was trying kill them, so everyone was trying to enjoy the moment. Naturally, the compound in upstate New York was preferred for rest and relaxation but it was currently undergoing a lot of renovations- it had to accommodate the Rogues (read: Exvengers) again.They all had to suck it up and stay in Manhattan till it was completed.

 "I can't believe the midget kid that whooped yo ass two years ago... _Helped you_?" Sam repeated, his voice dripping with disbelief.

"Yeah Wilson. I've said it three times now. Can your bird brain not comprehend that?" Bucky taunted. "Besides... He didn't _save me_ save me- all he did was give me directions... and get me out of Queens."

"I don't mean it in that way it's just..." Sam paused and double checked his surroundings before he continued "Stark was close to the kid y'know? You shoulda seen him when Spiderman dropped off the grid for months..." He trailed off.

 Bucky nodded. He was in Wakanda recovering until recently; he missed the whole drama with re-writing the Accords and Stark flipping his shit over a spider-vigilante they vaguely remembered fighting in Germany.

 "-he's calmed down a little is 'cos spidey resurfaced a few weeks ago." Sam continued quietly. "No one knows spidey’s identity except Stark."

 Well, you can add Bucky to that list now.

 "I knew my ears were burning for a reason," a voice called out from behind them. Speak of the Devil. "Wilson," Stark nodded at him. His eyes flickered to Sam’s left.

"Barnes."

His voice was devoid of its cold, icy tone: in its place was a hollow, monotonous drone.

Tony being in the same room as the others happened as often as... Well never. He didn't even join them for dinner anymore, opting to stay in the penthouse with the occasional visit from Pepper, Rhodey and Happy. Bucky deducted that he must have been in the garage; his shirt had grease stains, his hands were filthy and he had an oil stain on his cheek. Sam visibly tensed up as Tony walked over to the coffee machine on Bucky's right, as if anticipating some sort of smack down.

"At ease soldier," Tony sighed. "I just wanted a drink." Tony went about preparing his cup of coffee slowly. "And if I wanted you out of here, don't you think I would have done something by now?" He picked up his mug and drifted back to the elevators.

 "Damn. I haven't heard that man speak unless it was to give an order."

Bucky was also shocked at Starks sudden appearance. The last time he saw him outside of a mission was when he arrived back in America- Stark was there to set the house rules of their parole.

 

_"I'm gonna be honest here. I don't really want any of you on my property, but the Council gave me no choice." Tony drawled. He didn't want to be here. He would literally rather get stabbed by a purple alien than see Steve Rogers and his posse again. He could be innovating. He could be upgrading his suits. He could be with the kid. "The Compound will be yours. There are renovations being done for you guys, so you'll have to stay in Manhattan till its done." Tony glanced around the loose semi circle before him. He couldn't look Rogers in the eye. "The rules are simple. Don't leave New York. Don't touch my shit. Don't go looking for trouble. Clean up after yourself. Report every fortnight. Any questions? I hope not, my parseltongue is rusty." He walked away before Steve could open his mouth to spew out a half assed apology, and before they could actually ask any questions. Tony marched off the roof top in to the penthouse. If he had stayed breathing the same air as those guys for five more seconds he probably would have punched someone out, probably even-_

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

_"What?" He picked his phone up without looking at the contact._

_"M-Mister Stark?" A small voice stuttered from the other side. Tony sighed so deeply he was sure Peter could hear._

_"Oh, sorry Pete, you alright?" He tried to lighten his voice, but failed miserably._

_"I... Um... I'm not gonna make it tomorrow."_

_Shit. It was Friday today. Saturday's were always reserved for Peter. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose._

_"Why kid? What's up?"_

_Peter took a deep breath._

_"May... She's... Um. She's Gone." he whispered thickly. "A-armed rob-robbery," He sounded like he would break down any second; he ploughed on anyway. "Anyway... My foster family won't let me out, So..." He coughed to cover up a sob. "I'm not sure when I'll see you again."_

_Honestly, Tony had no idea how to react. How does one handle a grieving teenager?_

_"Um. Sorry to hear that kid. Really I am." If Tony was getting overwhelmed, God knew how Peter was reacting. "Look, can I call you back? There's a lot going on in the tower," he inhaled before continuing "We'll talk later." He wished Peter good bye one last time before hanging up._

_Maybe if he specified how late 'later' would be, this whole mess could have been avoided_

****

 God was screwing with this timeline.

 Bucky had seen Stark not once, but twice today. That didn't happen in a month, let alone in the span of 24 hours.

It was another sleepless night filled with nightmares; Bucky usually ends up spending most of his evenings wondering around the residential part of the tower, or working through the thoroughly compiled list of films and TV shows that he just has to watch.

 So when Tony freaking Stark tip toed in to the communal floor living room, settled on the opposite end of the sofa he was sat on, and crossed his legs like a kindergartener, Bucky wasn't just surprised; he was positively stupefied.

 "About this... Spider punk," Tony started quietly. "How and where did you see him?"

At first, Bucky didn't know where to start. He'd been told of Starks meltdown about some vigilante from Queens, not telling anyone else what was special about this guy- he didn't want to upset him in any way by bringing up bad memories. He knew all about that.

"I got lost. Twice."

Tony looked contemplative. "In Queens?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah. I bought him food the first time, the second time he saw me after I'd calmed down from..." Bucky left the rest of his sentence unsaid- Stark would know what he was talking about.

Tony laughed ruefully. "Giving directions? Of course he would." he mumbled to himself.

"How... How is he?"

Bucky really didn't know how to respond this time. Tell Stark his kid looks like he's starving and still doing his vigilante gig, or lie?

Third option it is.

"He talks a lot."

Tony barked out a laugh, looking down at the floor and shaking his head fondly. When Bucky saw his eyes, it looked like they were playing memories over and over again.

"Yeah, he does that." He uncrossed his legs and started to get up, stretching unused muscles.

"One last question for my inquisition. Was he wearing red and blue tracksuits?"

Bucky was going to lie for real this time, trying to save his ass from Stark's wrath for finding out Spiderman's identity; but the desperately hopeful gleam in Stark's eyes convinced him otherwise.

 "Yeah. Yeah he was."

 

****

 

It had been a few weeks since Bucky last saw Peter. He wasn't worried at all. The kid seemed to know how to take care of himself. That didn't stop him from having an endless number of questions:

  _How are you eating? Where do you sleep? Do you have an enhanced metabolism? When did you last shower? Do you still go to school? What happened with you and Stark? Why the fuck are you still spider man?_

 Okay, the second sentence was a lie. He was extremely worried about the kid.

 The revelation that Peter, the genius and potentially homeless child that he had met all those weeks ago, was freaking Spiderman had hit him hard. He felt a protective tug in his stomach that he hadn't felt since he was around his little sister in the 30s. This was absolute insanity.

 Which explains why he was in the middle of Queens. Looking for Peter.

 He hoped that if he wondered around 'lost' for long enough Peter would pop up out of nowhere to give him directions, in costume or not, but he'd done this so many times now that he knew Midtown like the back of his hand. He honestly didn't think the kid would take the bait-

 Fuck wrong turn.

 Bucky spun on his heel and started to walk out of the backroad. His steps echoed off the damp walls and his boots splashed in the murky water. The moldy smell and decay started to fill his nostrils, and he was so distracted by trying to block the offensive smell he didn't’t care enough about the silhouette trailing him.

 “What’s big-fry like you doin’ around here?” A deep Manhattan accent boomed behind him. “I thought you Avengers were too busy blowin’ cities up?”

 Bucky halted and sighed deeply. Why did everyone ask him that? He wasn’t even a god damn Avenger.

 "Look sir, I don’t know what you're talking about, and I sure as hell aren’t one of them.” He drawled. “Can I help you? Or are we done here?”

 The big, burly man finally stepped out of the shadows. He was bald and wide set, dressed in a fine black three piece suit, a cane in his large wrinkly hand. He brought a cigar to his lips.

 “Ya’ certainly can help me, Mr. Barnes,” the mystery man continued. “A lil’ birdie told me you know who Spiderman really is.”

 Bucky froze up, a thousand different insults dying on his tongue almost instantly. How the fuck could anyone know that?

 “Oh yeah? Maybe I’ll turn that birdie in to Sunday dinner.”

The man laughed.

 “What do you want.”

 The man laughed again. “The name’s Kingpin. Information is power Mr. Barnes. I have a lot of it, perks of being a crime boss and whatnot.” He paused to stroke the ornate top of his cane. “How about we do a… Swap.”

 Bucky arched his brow, the rest of his face a stone cold mask. “A swap?”

 “You heard me. One identity for another.” He brought his hand up to his breast pocket, and in the blink of an eye Bucky had a knife out, aimed directly at Kingpins sternum. “Relax. You may be a master assassin but that doesn’t mean I don’t have my own defenses.” He handed Bucky a rumpled card that only had a single phone number on it.

 

“Call me when you wanna know.”

 

Kingpin faded in to the shadows.

 

Bucky stood there frozen for what felt like eternity. He forgot about Steve. He forgot about the Avengers. He forgot about Spiderman. He forgot about Peter.

 

_One identity for another. What the fuck._

"Seriously Mr. Bucky, I think I'm gonna have to put a map of NYC on your metal arm," a high pitched voice called behind him. "Could I use a fridge magnet to stick it on?"

 

Bucky turned around slowly, as not to make it seem as though he was so fucking relieved to see this kid alive. He was not expecting to see him donned in red and blue.

 

"So. You're Spiderman. The one Stark used to rave about."

 

Peter’s shoulders tensed up, he scratched the back of his head and released a short laugh. He fiddled and re-adjusted his web shooters before finally looking up. Bucky couldn't see his face, but if he had to guess the boys expression, it would definitely be discomfort.

 

"Uh... Yeah that's me..." Peter was looking anywhere but Bucky's face.

“My- my friend Peter told me about you. He gave very specific instructions to look out for wondering Avengers.” Wow. The kid was lying though his teeth.

 “Your friend Peter huh?”

 The kid nodded started to rock on the balls of his feet. “Yeah, we’re good friends. He asked how I managed to take down Captain America, and I told him I shot him in the legs because his shield is the size of a dinner plate. And he's an idiot.” Peter giggled quietly to himself like he had an inside joke.

 “You’re not wrong about him being an idiot, kid.”

 Peter shuffled his feet again. “So uh… you aren't gonna need any help aga- wait no sorry – you need any help?”

 Bucky sighed for what felt like the millionth time that evening.”Cut the bullshit Peter I know you’re Spiderman.”

 Peter immediately stopped in his tracks.

 “What did you call me?” His voice was colder than the Antarctic, and filled with more venom than a black mamba.

 He couldn’t see Peter’s expressions, but somehow Bucky knew he fucked up. Badly.

 “I know you’re Spiderman.”

 Peter span slowly on his heel. Bucky still couldn’t see his face, but he knew Peter was pissed off. He could feel his piercing gaze through the swimming goggles on his makeshift mask.

 “Why can’t you avengers-“

  _Not an avenger kid, do I have to make a formal statement or something?_

“…I don’t want anything to do with you guys!” Peter seethed. “Tell Mr. Stark to stop trying to talk to me. _It’s too fucking late!_ ”

 Peter shot out a string of web and flew in to the night.

 

Well shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! i feel like this is a bit rushed so i might go back and edit it a little next week, maybe re read it before i upload the next chapter?
> 
> im not even gonna lie it might be a w h i l e till the new chapter comes out, but my half term break is coming up so maybe we'll get two chapters in a month Mayhaps¿
> 
> stay tuned lads, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated
> 
> anklusmos
> 
> side note im desperate for a beta so if you want a cheeky preview of new chapters before they're uploaded let me know man


	4. CHAPTER 4

_It is Wednesday my dudes_ , Peter thought bitterly. And yes, he did internally screech.

 One of the worst things about being homeless is the loneliness. Yeah, not being able to eat consistently is shit, getting to a shower was an even bigger inconvenience, but none of that compared to the absolute isolation that come with it; the dirty looks, the pity...

 Peter hated it.

 It was another chilly Wednesday afternoon, the nippy autumn breeze was biting through Peter's flimsy layers. He thought that walking through the different boroughs of New York would keep him busy and help him keep warm, if anything it just made his exhaustion more evident.

 It didn't help that he was part spider.

  _Why couldn't something that could fucking thermoregulate have bitten me?_ Peter thought bitterly to himself. _Like a bird. Flying powers would be so cool. If only I could get to a lab, change the webbing a little, maybe I could make the main compound a regulator…_

When he wasn’t wandering around New York, he spent a majority of his time in his (old) local library working his way through the science and non- fiction aisles in an attempt to keep up with his education. Sometimes he would camp out in the the male bathrooms and make more fluid if he managed to get his hands on some supplies. He had worked his way through all of Dr. Bruce Banner’s gamma radiation papers and essays the first month that he started visiting the small stuffy building, and was now ploughing through every single quantum physics book he could get his hands on. Every so often he would help the little kids with their homework or teach the Latina grandmothers how to send an email to their children in Spanish.

 (“¿Que? No puede entiendo la tecnologia de moderna dia, hijo.”)

 The only days that peter stayed in the antique building from opening to closing time was when the young Eastern European librarian insist they work on his fast-progressing Russian

 (“But Mrs. Rushman, I already speak another language! Fluently!”

“Then it wont kill you learn another, will it бездомный мальчик?')

 But at that moment he was on the edge of Central Park, too far to get back to Queens, working his way down the winding paths in to the East Side. While on his stroll, he started to scope out potential places to sleep for the night. If he was lucky he might find a clean bench. The east side always intimidated him, even when he wasn't homeless; the beautiful Victorian mansions towered over his Queens-born-and-raised ass, the streets were kept in impeccable condition-

 And there were _so many dogs_!

 It was actually quite for once. Not quite in the sense that there was no noise around, but quite in the sense that Peter didn’t need to dash in to an alley and throw his shitty costume on. Which was strange; Very strange indeed. Peter was far too hungry and exhausted to go on patrol. He was praying that Thor (or God, whoever answered his prayers first) would pull through and let him have some well earned rest. At least wait until he ate something.

 Ah, but God had Abandoned This Timeline. And Parker luck had struck again.

 He felt the pounding vibrations ripple through the ground before he heard the screams coming from 8 o’clock. A deep, reptilian screech echoed through the air-

  _Please not the Lizard please not the Lizard anyone but the god damn Lizard- Of course it’s the fucking Lizard._

Peter sprinted to the nearest alleyway, rummaging through his bag and yanking out the separate components of his homemade (OG) costume trying his best to put it on before he got to wherever the commotion was. He finally got his mask on and swung towards the smoke and debris

 “Hey rat-breath! Long time no see man! How are the sewers treatin’ ya?”

 The lizard whipped around, his tail knocking over several cars and nearly decapatating a weeping woman.

 “ _Spidermaaan_.” The great beast growled.

 “That’s the name don’t wear it out! But I think I might change it to bi-derman, I could make so many puns with it y’know what I- Shit!”

 The Lizard clearly didn’t care for Peter’s dilemma, as he broke out in to a charge and forced Peter to swing two ways in order to dodge him. Peter sent out another prayer, hoping he had enough web fluid to at least slow him down till the authorities (who? Lizard control?) got here. He shot out two thick balls of webbing on to The Lizards feet, cementing him to the ground. The Lizard started thrashing and attempting to kick, trying to break free from the sticky solvent.

 “Can’t scurry away now huh Lizard- oh shit shit shit-!“

 Just as Peter was about to spew out another witty remark The lizard ripped off his restraints and started charging at Peter, his hands ready to grab Peters head and rip it right off his shoulders-

 Until he stopped. In his tracks; He stopped right in front of Peter. What?

 The Lizards face started to contort in displeasure, as if he was having an argument with his conscience and he was very much loosing. He let out a low growl and stomped his foot on the ground like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

 “We aren’t done here _bug boy_.” The Lizard spat. He dropped through the man hole he was standing on.

 Wait what?

 Peter stood there for what felt like eternity, but it was probably only for a few minutes. How was one supposed to cope with almost getting decapitated by a huge reptilian monster, until said huge reptilian monster decided to pussy out and return to his sewers?

 You don’t. The police sirens started to sound a lot closer than they did 10 minutes ago, and that snapped Peter out of his stupor. He slowly backed away from the freshly flipped man hole and dashed in to the closest alley, still not processing _what the fuck just happened?_

  _Maybe God is pullin' through on this one,_ his inner monologue commented, _take this blessing and run as far as you can with it._

****

 It had been a while since Peter visited his (old) local library, he’d honestly admit that, but he never thought it would change _this_ drastically.

 The sign was no longer fading with age and spelt out ‘Que ns For st Hi l L  rary’, instead it was replaced with a shiny titanium plaque; the letters giving off a golden glow. The brick face was no longer crumbling; the white wash paint no longer hung pathetically to the blocks. Instead the whole front was almost entirely frosted glass panels, with the two closest to the brand new rotating doors being interactive for small children. The building was no longer small and stout, instead it rose up a further three stories, fitting snuggly amongst the new builds in the surrounding area.

 It smelt like a Stark Industry charity (pity) project to try and gain a positive public opinion, and honestly Peter wasn’t going to complain. At least Mr. Stark is still investing his money in something good.

 He walked through the rotating door, and saw that the interior had changed, but still had the same cosy feel it always had. Maybe it was the Abuelas stabbing their holographic keyboards, or the kids running around the flashy children's section, but it was so normal. So familiar. Just what Peter needed.

 And the cherry on top, Mrs. Rushman was at the front desk.

 "Добрый день, миссис Рашман!” Peter called out cheerfully.

 Mrs. Rushman whipped her head around, her eyes scanned the crowd for her Russian protege. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree when she saw Peters baby face

 “Питер! Where have you been? How are you!” Her mother henning had an accent. “And call me Nat маленький,”  She laughed.

 “I’m not a little one,” Peter grumbled, making Nat laugh even more. “I’m sorry I haven't been able to visit, I’ve been… busy.” His eyes wondered around. The layout was more open plan, the second and third floor were visible when you looked up to the skylight, little balconies were jutting out in to the air, giving readers a view of below.

 “A lot has changed around here. It’s not even the same building.”

 Nat gave Peter a solemn smile “I know маленький, but we should be thankful to Mister Stark, no?” Peter started to shift and fidget on the spot when Stark was brought up

 “I guess we should. Can we continue учитель?”

 

 ****

 Peter spent the next few hours at the refurbished library. After a grand tour, Mrs. Rushman taught Peter the wonders of Russian grammar, how Russsian names work,

  _(“So you’re telling me, your maiden name is actually Alianova, because you’re a girl, but your dad would have just been Alianov? That’s wild man.”)_

and was an intent listener for Peter to babble about what he had learnt in whatever paper Dr. Banner had published recently, asking him a range of questions to test his understanding on the content. What Peter loved most about Mrs. Rushman however, was how she never qustioned Peter as to why he wasn’t in education; heck she didn’t ask anything about his Peters personal life at all. That worked out perfectly for him. The greatest tutor he could ever ask for.

 “How did you learn Spanish Peter, in school?” Nat asked curiously. Huh. They never got personal. Peter’s shoulders squared, and his face scrunched up as he thought of a way to both answer and evade the question. He chuckled and shook his head.

“Nah. My uncle spoke Spanish, I was fluent by the time I finished middle school.”

Nat Alianova Rushman was a very well educated woman, and Peter couldn’t have been more grateful for not being interrogated, even if her eyes looked like she got all the answers she needed.

 “I forgot how fun these sessions are. Can we do it again soon Ms. Nat?” Peter begged, his puppy eyes glossing over for extra effect. Nat looked down at her Russian student sat on the loveseat, she knew she had to give a vague answer, but her heart wrenched looking at Peter’s pitiful face.

 “Of course ребенок. Is next Tuesday okay for you?”

 

****

 

_“Yes Stark, he’s doing… fine. No different from what I saw last time… so we can chat shit about people obviously, why else would anyone learn another language?... He did look a little cold, maybe I should give him a sweater… Remind me to bring more food next time.”_

 

****

Peter was slowly running out of web fluid, that impromptu fight with the Lizard significantly diminishing his supplies. He was planning not to go on a long patrol tonight, feeling as though he needed to save his energy for the colder days. He had no idea when he would get his next meal, even though he had stuffed his face during his study session with Mrs. Rushman. Thankfully the night was slow, chaperoning a few girls who were too scared to walk home in the dark, returning a plant pot that had fallen off someones balcony, and defending a young boy against 3 bullies. Overall, it was a good evening.

 Until he got a tip from one of his snitches.

 “I swear spidey, this dude is fuckin’ up Hell’s Kitchen and now he’s lookin’ to expand his territory.” His informant handed Peter a greasy bag of chips. “I’ve seen what he’s done with my own damn eyes. Please… you gotta do _somethin’_.”

 Peter was hesitant, Hell’s Kitchen was the Defenders territory and he didn’t really want to step on their toes. But if this guy is coming in to Queens…

 Peter sighed deeply. “Okay. Hit me with it.”

 

****

This was clearly an abandononed timeline, because he couldn’t stop running in to James Buchanan Barnes no matter how hard he tried. He had seen Mr. Bucky wonder around Queens for the past few weeks, he didn’t think much of it, Mr. Bucky looked like he was trying to reacquaint himself with the boroughs.

 Peter soon noticed that _an Avenger was actively looking for him!_ This truly is the worst timeline.

 Which is why Peter swung down towards the super soldier, finally taking pity on him.

"Seriously Mr. Bucky, I think I'm gonna have to put a map of NYC on your metal arm," He called out. "Could I use a fridge magnet to stick it on?"

Bucky turned around slowly, as not to make it seem as though he was so fucking relieved to see this kid alive. He was not expecting to see him donned in red and blue.

"So. You're Spiderman. The one Stark used to rave about." Bucky asked bluntly.

Peter’s shoulders tensed up, he scratched the back of his head and released a short laugh. He fiddled and re-adjusted his web shooters before finally looking up. He was so glad his expression was masked, because he didn’t want Bucky to see how uncomfortable he was.

"Uh... Yeah that's me..." Peter was looking anywhere but Bucky's face.

“My- my friend Peter told me about you. He gave very specific instructions to look out for wondering Avengers.” Wow. Pter was literally the worlds worst liar.

 “Your friend Peter huh?” Bucky raised an eyebrow,

Peter nodded enthusiastically and started to rock on the balls of his feet. “Yeah, we’re good friends. He asked how I managed to take down Captain America, and I told him I shot him in the legs because his shield is the size of a dinner plate. And he's an idiot.” Peter giggled quietly as the vine replayed in his mind’s eye.

 “You’re not wrong about him being an idiot, kid.” Bucky huffed out.

 Peter shuffled his feet again. “So uh… you aren't gonna need any help again- ( _remember your manners Parker.)_ wait no sorry – you need any help?”

 Bucky sighed for what felt like the millionth time that evening.”Cut the bullshit Peter I know you’re Spiderman.”

 Peter immediately stopped in his tracks.

 “What did you call me?” His voice was colder than the Antarctic, and filled with more venom than a black mamba.

 “I know you’re Spiderman.”

 Peter span slowly on his heel. Bucky still couldn’t see his face, but he knew Peter was pissed off. He could feel his piercing gaze through the swimming goggles on his makeshift mask.

 “Why can’t you avengers get the message I want nothing to do with you! I know I would have done anything to become one a few months ago, and sometimes I wonder what would be different if I did! You guys can’t appreciate the team you had, and how it was a family. Do you guys not get how lucky you are to still have that!” Peter stopped ranting for a moment to catch his breathe and compose himself “I don’t want anything to do with you guys!” Peter seethed. “Tell Mr. Stark to stop trying to talk to me.  _It’s too fucking late!_ ”

Peter shot out a string and continued swinging.

****

 _Okay. My snitch said Astoria Boulevard but I'm seriously calling his bullshit._ The street was deadly silent, he couldn’t even hear voices and heartbeats in the complex he was standing in front of, where Kingpin’s supposed Queens HQ was.

_On a completely silent street in the middle of the night on my own, with few offensive weapons on me and little to no rotection. Sounds like a horror movie._

And he heard a reptilian roar behind him.

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow that ending is w i l d i wonder what's gonna happen next y'all. i wanted to update this asap because i feel bad for not posting twice in the month. i aint gonna make any promises on a coherent posting schedule but i will try my hardest to post at least twice a month. anyway i know i look like a major tony anti BUT IM NOT OKAY I LOVE TONY STANK WITH MY WHOLE ASS HEART he just has to be an arse for the plot dw y'all we gonna get to feast on wholemeal iron dad content soon. i'm super sorry for any spelling mistakes i make, which is ironic as hell because i study english literature??????? i write so many essays and i still can't spell for shit smh
> 
> thanks for reading beeches!!! constructive criticism is greatly appreciated 
> 
> see you soon!!
> 
> anklusmos


	5. CHAPTER 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw for panic attacks, if you don't want to read it skip from 'Tony's anxiety' to "Here you go"  
> stay safe lads x

T _he theme tune about Spider-Man he heard a busker outside the tower belting out started to blast from his bespoke StarkPhone speakers. Ah. His kid was calling. He didn't allow it to ring for a second longer, and greeted Peter with great enthusiasm._

 _"Hey underoos, how's it-" Peter cut him off abruptly._  
" _Mr. Stark oh my god okay I'm... Okay um- Brendon Urie my pansexual God where do I begin... Um... We have a... Situation." The nervous chatter was normal for Peter, but Tony never thought the 16 year old who constantly made vine references had the capacity to sound so serious about anything._  
"Okay Pete I need you to slow down, what's wrong ?" He asked in a (totally dad tone) of concern.  
_"Aunt May- she um... Found out?"_

_What? Wow okay this was a can of worms Tony never wanted to open-_

_"Aunt Hottie? Kid how the hell did you manage-"_

_"...could you hand me the phone please Peter?" Uh oh._

_"Stark." The feminine voice that came through the speaker phone was as cold and as sharp as an icicle. Tony Stark had never felt more terrified in his life, and he was an Avenger for God's sake. "We need to talk. Could you please come here tomorrow at around 12?" He had a meeting to attend at that time regarding the Rogues, but May Parker didn't sound like she was playing.  
"Sure Ms. Parker. I'll be there."_

_***_  
T _ony arrived outside their apartment 10 minutes early. He was going to wait it out, as not to look eager, but May seemed to have a sixth sense, and opened the door anyway._

_"Please. Come in."_

_He stepped in to the cosy apartment, and it was more furnished than the last time he was here. May invited him to sit down on the fabric love seat in the living room that faced their open kitchen. Tony glanced around and it was evident his 'grant money' for Peter was helping._

_"Would you like some coffee?" Tony nodded enthusiastically. May moved in to the kitchen, where she was still visible. Although he didn't want to, he cut straight to the chase._

_"So. You know Pete is Spider-Man."_

_May sighed deeply._ _"Honestly, that boy can't keep a secret to save his life, I'm surprised he managed to keep it from me for this long."_

_"Yeah. The kid won't stop talking." Tony mumbled_

_May laughed, setting their mugs down on the table in front of them. She settled her self in a bit more, rotating her torso to look Tony dead in the eye._   
_"Enough bullshit. I'm not happy about Peter being Spider-Man. And I'm extremely pissed at you for condoning it! Don't even get me started on Germany," Her voice started to slowly gain volume as she listed everything._   
_"Peter filled me in on everything. I walked in on his smartass trying on his suit and he cracked. What were you thinking! He was a 14 year old boy-"_

_"I wasn't thinking."_

_May cut herself off._

_"My team had just split, no one was listening to me; Captain America did what he does best. Punch his way out. I was desperate, I'd already been watching all the good that Pete's been doing for the past few moths and... Took the opportunity. I'd been working on his suit for months, way before this Accords crap, it has everything he could need in as many worst case scenarios my anxiety could conjure up,"_

_May took a deep breathe to compose herself. She could hear the regret in Tony's tone.  
"I'm glad he has some sort of protection, and I'm grateful you've given him that. But it's still not ideal that my kid is constantly throwing himself in to life threatening situations." Tony nodded in agreement.  
"It's not, but I've tried to stop him... And that _ really _didn't work. If anything it made him more determined."_

_May was pensive, looking in to her coffee cup she ran her index finger around the rim._

_"Of course it did. He always takes accountability for things that aren't his fault, especially since the night his uncle died..." She stopped for a moment at the mention of Ben Parker. "He always blamed himself, like he could have done something. But... It's okay that he couldn't ya know?  
"He's not gonna stop. We both know that. So... We have to compromise."_

_Tony raised an eyebrow. Peter has subtly hinted that May Parker wasn't exactly his number one fan, and now she was willing to work with him? It was an understatement to say he was taken aback. For the first time in forever, Tony honestly didn't know how to respond._

" _Okay. Cool. Great actually, Um... Where do you suggest we start, Ms. Parker?"_

 _May rolled her eyes at his formality._ _"You can start by calling me May."_  


_***_

_  
By the time Peter got back home from his after school patrol, May and Tony had compiled a set of handwritten rules on a blackboard regarding his "Spidermanning":_

_**1**. No patrolling after 10pm on a school night _   
_**2.** Dedicate one day of the week as a break_   
_**3**. Spend at least one weekend every month with May_   
_**4**. Report every night_   
_**5**. Always answer your phone_   
_**6**. Don't lie about where you are; DO NOT REMOVE YOUR TRACKER!!!_   
_**7**. No screaming "YEET" when you websling. People complain when they hear it at 4am, Peter. Read your reviews!_   
_**8**. Stop telling people you're "technically" an Avenger kid. It's bad PR to confuse the public._   
_**9**. Training every other month @ the facility. At least try not to piss Happy off during the drive._   
_**10**. ALWAYS use your spider suit, not your PJs. I get that gen z have a weird sense of style now, but I still think your little upgrade looks way better._

_Peter read through them all, the first 6 seem to have been written by his aunt, the rest by his mentor. He read through them carefully, already planning to exploit any loop holes he could find. When he couldn't think of any, he opened his mouth to negotiate with them. But he saw May's deep worry lines and Mr. Stark's dark eye bags. And stopped himself. He didn't want to be the reason for those anymore, and if he had to follow a bunch of rules then so be it._

_"Okay. Cool, I'll take the L. What's for dinner?"_

_"How does Korean sound?"_

_"Sounds great, I could fly us to Seoul in 4 hours."_

_***_

_"No matter what Stark, look out for our kid. Or I will personally kick your ass."_   
_"If anything happened to Peter, I would happily let you."_   
_"Just... Promise me Stark. Please."_

_"I swear it, Ms. Parker."_

****  
One would never expect Natasha Romanoff, former SHIELD agent; infamous assassin, the Black Widow; an Avenger, overall badass, to have a soft spot.

Much less a soft spot for _children_.

Well, one child in particular: Peter Parker. He was a sweet boy, polite and well mannered. Not to mention a genius. She could barely grasp Bruce's work and she was genetically enhanced to be smart. Peter read those papers for fun; He always babbled about what he couldn't understand, and ended up answering his own questions anyway. She had never met anyone who picked up Russian as quickly as Peter did either, and he already spoke Spanish fluently.

So yeah, she would admit to enjoying Peter's company, but she would fry your precious brain cells with her widowbites right after to make you forget. She would willingly keep an eye on him for Stark, if it meant spending time with him.

Despite how incredibly smart Peter was, she was surprised that he hadn't recognised her yet. She kept two of her actual birth names in this cover, and if he read anything from the SHIELD dump a few years back, Natasha knew Peter would have figured out who she was by now.

But here she is. Sat in a library on a Tuesday morning, smack bang in the middle of Queens, remaining unrecognised.

Peter had agreed to meet her today, in his normal enthusiastic manner.

Yet he wasn't here.

They never agreed on a specific time, but Peter always came to the library before 11am so he could spend the whole day pouring over books.

Natasha glanced at the clock, it was already 12:30pm. Maybe he got caught up in a fight. She skimmed through her red alerts. Nope. Nothing significant or Spider-Man related. Where the hell was he?

_Stop worrying Natasha_

It was already 3pm, and the fresh hot cookies Stark insisted she bring along had long gone cold. Peter was no where to be seen.

The other sweet librarian had finally arrived for her shift. Peter still hadn't arrived.

One could never imagine that a master assassin even knew the feeling of dread or worry; Natasha was filled with dread _and_ worry, somethings she never thought she would have to experience in her entire life.

Stark was right. Peter Parker can wrap anyone around his little pinkie.

Finally, Natasha caved in, she picked up the telephone and dialled one of the only numbers she knew by heart.

"Tony? We have a... Situation."

****

 _We have a situation_.

And suddenly Tony was transported to all those months ago, getting a call from his kid about a 'situation' and ending the evening with authentic Korean food fresh from a restaurant in the middle of Forest Hills.  
He couldn't even process what Romanoff was explaining to him.

"I'm really sorry, can you say that again?"

Instead of Natasha shooting him one of her iconic venomous glares, she looked at him with empathy. She took a deep breath and started from the top:

"I agreed to meet мальчик-паук today. We set up the meeting last Wednesday, and nothing Spider-Man related has appeared in the news since."

Tony's anxiety started going haywire, his muscles tensed and filled with led.  
What if he's sick? His DNA could mutate a common cold. He could die if it goes untreated. What if he's injured? How will he treat it? What if he's been taken hostage? He has no way to contact Tony. What if he's dead? And it'll be all _my fault my fault my fault-_

"Tony? Do you want some water?"

He nodded his head in a mechanical manner, and tried to control his breathing until Natasha came back.

_I can see DUM-E, my tool box, the suit, the floor, a light._   
_I can hear my music, my heart beat, my thoughts, and FRIDAY_   
_I can smell motor oil, fire, and sweat._   
_I can feel my shirt and my shoes._   
_I can taste-_

"Here you go... You okay now?"  
Tony nodded once again, this time feeling more grounded. He was ready to plan.

"FRIDAY? Call the others down here, this is gonna take a while."

****

"So your telling me... This spider punk from Queens that you and Barnes have been raving about... Is a 16 year old boy?" Sam asked incredulously

"Yes Wilson I did. Did I fucking stutter?"

Sam took a deep breath to compose himself. "Just- I'm just shocked. I got my ass kicked by a child."

Tony rolled his eyes. _Lord give me strength._

"Can we not dwell on that right now? We can repair your fragile ego later, I'm sure I can find something in the lab to help with that." He got up and stood on the table to ensure everyone could hear him.

"Romanoff told me that he was last seen on Wednesday. Odds are he went on patrol almost immediately after visiting the library. What time did he leave?"

She furrowed her perfect brows. "I'd say around 5:30pm?"  
"Did he eat something?" Tony asked quietly.

Natasha paused, straing at the counter in front of her trying to recall if Peter had eaten anything "Yeah he ate the Russian biscuits I bought."

Tony scrambled to write that down

"Okay, he probably didn't start until 6:00. The kid hates feeling sick while he's swinging through the air." He grabbed an idle StarkPad, tapping on the screen a few times before handing it off to Rhodes.  
"Can you look through this footage please Rhodey? It's CCTV around his general perimeter. Look for blue and red pyjamas, you can't miss it."  
He handed the other StarkPad to Romanoff. "Help him out. FRIDAY can help you with anything else you might need-"

"I saw him too." Barnes called out. Tony stopped momentarily. Accept the help of the man who assassinated his parents? You know what? Fuck it. Anything for Peter Parker.

"Okay. What time and where?"

Barnes looked surprised that Tony even managed to look at his general direction.  
"In Astoria, around 8:30. We... Disagreed over something and he kept swinging towards the boulevard."  
Great! That's so great! Now he had a more pinpointed area-

"Tony. We need to talk." Steve Rogers' voice booked from the other side of the room. If Tony kept rolling his eyes at this rate, he'd end up like Nick Fury.

"Terrible timing Captain. Almost as bad as when you decided to tell me how my parents really died."

The room became colder than the Antarctic, the tension so thick a chainsaw couldn't cut through it.

"Tony I'm sorry-" Steve started before being abruptly cut off.

"Save your half assed apology Rogers. And it's Stark to you. Tony is reserved for people who didn't leave me in Siberia to die." He turned back to his screen. "You can either help me, or get out."

Steve sighed heavily in defeat. "What do you want me to do?"  
_How can I get him out of my sight?_

"Start walking around Queens. Pete's a ditsy kid, he might have just forgotten he was meeting Romanoff. FRIDAY will send you a photo of what he looks like."

"Why didn't you do this last time?" Wilson piped up.

Tony rubbed at his face. This was a terrible time to remind him of his last search party for Peter.

"He's a smart kid. A genius actually, you know he developed the webbing he used in Germany in a school lab? Just as smart as I was at that age, maybe even smarter," He looked over at the unfinished BB-8 droid in Peter's corner of the lab;blueprints of new and improved webshooters were littered throughout, the last person who touched them was Peter.  
"If anyone can outsmart me, it's Peter Parker. I tried so hard to track him, and the little arachnid keeps shaking me. It's probably his senses..." At this point, Tony was rambling to himself, remembering how ingenious his protege actually is; Sam looked like he had unlocked the secrets of the universe.

"Okay. I get it, he's a smartass. What do you want me to do?"

Tony looked around. Natasha and Rhodey were scrolling through footage around Astoria; Barnes and Rogers went to the streets.  
"Ask around too, if you can contact Maximoff or Vision that would be great, I could really use those witchy powers."  
Sam gave a curt nod.  
"On it."

_I swear it kid, if I have to tear apart the whole State of New York just to find you I will. Like I should have done._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is kinda a filler but it's Crucial For The Plot.  
> anyway, i said i would post twice (2x) this month and I DID  
> side note, im sorry if anyone seems ooc i kinda mixed comic canon w the mcu so enjoy this hybrid I Guess  
> AND THANKS FOR 10k HITS????? THIS BITCH SHOOK???? YEET???  
> see y'all soon it's gonna be a Really Wild One™
> 
> anklusmos


	6. CHAPTER 6

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Peter cried out in disbelief.

If Peter had to explain what Parker Luck was to a random stranger, he’d describe (in depth) how he ended up trapped by _a giant reptilian monster_ on the outskirts of Queens. 

In retrospect, he should have realised that it was the Lizard he’d be facing off, he was explicitly told that their fight wasn’t finished but he didn’t think he’d see him again in the same month, let alone the same day. His plan was: steak out this new Kingpin dude, work out what he wanted in his neighbourhood and tell the Defenders to interfere before anything too drastic happened; not reliving another traumatic moment in his tragic life.

So why the hell was _the fucking Lizard_ here?

Peter didn’t have time to ponder and theorise, as the Lizard let out a beastly roar and began charging at him, his huge tail whipping behind dragging up dust as he went. Peter couldn’t even spit out any quips, as he immediately sprang into action.

_Okay. No civilians around. Great, I don’t have to worry about getting them out of the way._

Swish. Peter gracefully flipped over the Lizards giant tail ( _seriously, why can’t someone cut it off let him live without it for a while?_ ) planting his foot on the Lizard’s spine and using his back as a way to push off and cartwheel over his head, shooting webs in his eyes as a way to slow the villain down.

_Remember Parker, keep him as far away from the sewers as possible._

The Lizard growled lowly in frustration, and stopped to claw Peter’s (slightly diluted) webbing out of his eyes; Peter had enough time to get on to higher ground and distance himself, giving him an opportunity to start formulating a plan to try and take down the overgrown house pet. Peter scanned the buildings and old warehouses surrounding them. Luckily a majority of them seemed to have been abandoned, giving him the perfect place to trap a massive monster. He spotted a derelict warehouse, the sign across the face of the building seemed to have advertised a tailoring company but it was so worn and faded it could have been for anything else under the sun. The loading bay was close enough to where Peter and the Lizard were and wide enough for him to easily usher the beast through. Perfect!

“Damn dude! The diet of sewer rats is doin’ ya good if you can move this fast! Wanna give me a discount code for my first order?” He called out, attempting to keep its attention on him.

Lizard narrowed its eyes and raised its head slightly, giving a slow calculating nod looking as though he was sizing Peter up, contemplating whether to take the bait or not.

“I see why people didn’t want to invest in your project, especially if it turns your face into _that!_ ”

That seemed to have been the last straw, and it charged towards Peter without any warning, chasing him so fast that Peter was forced to swing at an inhuman pace, making him sure that he’d snap his wrist if he kept this up much longer. Going perfectly according to his plan then. Peter shot out a string and it attached itself on the forehead of a faded face above the loading bay door, he used his momentum to kick through the steel doors with the lizard following shortly after. Peter continued to swing until they were in an open space, the fluorescent light bulbs were still flickering and hanging dejectedly from the high rise ceilings. He landed softly on the concrete floor; Finally they were on level ground. Now Peter could see Lizard properly, he seemed taller, more agile and almost...Intelligent. Sentient. Like he wasn’t just a raging killing machine anymore. Like he could hold a conversation that consisted of more than 5 words.

“How are you these days Lizard, I can tell you’ve had a glow up! Really out here livin your best lizardy life!” Peter’s mocking tone was dripping in his Queens drawl, masking how overwhelmed and terrified he really felt. “Who woulda thought we’d see each other twice in a day! Small world huh?”

The Lizard snarled “They never said you would talk this much.”

Peter did a double take. Who the fuck are _they_?

“Do you wanna elaborate on who they are or- no okay straight for the attacks.” Peter decided to not ignore his super anxiety spider sense for once and managed to evade a mean right hand hook.

“So you’re playing dirty? Okay, I see how it is…”

Peter ran through a billion different movie scenarios that could work in his moment of time, and eventually settled on an old favourite. He smiled to himself, reminiscing the first time he ever suggested this plan to another person apart from Mr. Stark-

He climbed up the wall before shooting its ankle, before swinging around to bind them together

 

_(“Have you ever seen that really old movie, Empire Strikes back? And they take down those walking thingies!?”)_

 

The lizard rumbled, he seemed to have realised Peter’s plan and snatched the webbing between his gnarly paws and yanked Peter towards him.

“Insect…” He hissed, bringing Peter closer to his face “I will crush you to a-”

“Whoa dude,” Peter suddenly cut him off. “Were you eating actual _shit_ down there too?”

It clearly did not approve of Peter’s comedic timing, as it got even more frustrated and threw Peter on to the ground so hard the concrete snapped with a satisfying _crack._ Oh no. This is bad. This is bad. This is so very very very bad-

The Lizard seemed satisfied with his work, he seemed sure that Peter would be unable to get up after at least fracturing a rib or two. It turned away from Peter walking further and further away, his nostrils upturned as though he was trying to sniff something out.

Despite literally having just been yeeted on to a concrete floor, Peter Parker did what Peter Parker did best; He got back up.

“Is that… really… all you’ve got?” he challenged weakly.

The Lizard’s head lashed back around, in slight disbelief that Spider Man had managed to sit up, let alone stand and still tal back to him.

He gave an evil grin. “You know it’s not.” He jumped straight down.

 

Fuck.

 

****

 

 _God truly has abandoned this timeline._ Peter though to himself sulkily _I’m about to fight a lizard in the fucking sewer!_

The world still felt like a giant spider web to him, so he listened out carefully for that signature growl and relied on his spidey sense to give him the heads up on any other nasty surprises. He continued to walk through New York’s disgusting sewer system, the unpleasant and highly volatile smell cut through the air, his enhanced senses not helping at all. Drops of water sounded like crashing waves to Peter. He kept his eye out for any ripples and disturbances in the sewage that could indicate where the Lizard had gotten to.

It felt like eternity had passed by the time Peter had gotten anywhere near the lizard, he knew he was close as he could hear tell tale signs of that ginormous tail swinging around and the faint distress calls of poor rats being gobbled up unexpectedly

“I really love what you’ve done with the place!” Peters high pitched voice bounced off the walls “Definitely reflects your personality!”

The Lizard stopped eating his post-fight meal and looked at Peter, dead in the eye.

“I got it ready, just for you.” His chilling tone sent shivers up Peter’s spine. He got up, extending to his full height of 7’0”. “Are you ready for our rematch?”

Well. It was now or never.

Peter shot his webbing at the foul, dirt ridden ceiling and used it to pull himself up, before swinging forward with enough force to hit The Lizard square in the face.

Splash. He was knocked out.

Peter sighed in relief, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about huge cold blooded reptiles running around the city for a while   

 

****

Eventually, Peter made it back to the surface, retracing his steps and coming back up to the abandoned warehouse.

But to his surprise, he was no longer alone.

Right on top of where he was thrown down, was a large, stout man standing right on top of the cracking point. He was dressed sharply, his suit clearly tailored, the cane in his hand seemed like an important heirloom, his head was bald, adding to his intimidating demeanour. There was something about him that seemed recognisable, but Peter couldn’t quite put his finger on it

“So, you must be Spider Man, Mr. Parker.”

Whatthefuck? Peter instinctively reached up to touch his face, double checking his mask was still there and to look for any obvious rips that would expose his identity

“Um… I’m afraid i don’t know who Mr. Parker is, but I certainly am Spider Man…” He coughed awkwardly.

Bald guy chuckled. “Of course you’re not Mr. Parker, how foolish of me. Allow me to introduce myself.” he held a large hand out “Kingpin.”

Oh my god. He stared at the outstretched palm in disbelief.

Kingpin sniggered and withdrew his hand. “I can see you’re exhausted from fighting my associate, so I won’t keep you too long-”

He sent the goddamn Lizard on me?

“...Not the only one I can call on-”

Oh my god. This is Wilson Fisk. Wilson Fisk is the fucking Kingpin

“...Understand _Spiderman,”_ He spat “That New York is mine, and if I need to exterminate all arachnids to conquer all five boroughs _, I will.”_

He gave Peter one final, filthy warning glare before turning to leave.

_Did he really just threaten me? What the fuck?_

If Peter Parker had to explain Parker Luck to a random stranger, he wouldn’t explain how he got cornered by massive lizard, but rather describe how he received a death threat from one of the wealthiest men in America for trying to do the right thing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was lowkey a filler sorry like it's only like 1.7kish, and it was difficult to write because there's like NO GOD DAMN DIALOGue but anyway sorry for not updating twice this month, i haven't had the time to write anything and i've been suffering from majors writers block :''''''(  
> but !!!! i got a laptop for xmas so hopefully i'll churn out chapters a bit faster now i dont have to write everything on my phone  
> its also 3am and i havent actually proof read anything so if theres any typos ill go back and fix it when im more awake dw
> 
> hope everyone had a good holiday, see you in the new year!!!
> 
> anklusmos


	7. CHAPTER 7

_ Tony couldn’t remember the last time he had slept. The thought of going to sleep had immediately flown out the window as soon as he had heard the four worst words in the English language. _

_ “Tony. Peter is missing.” _

_ The ringing in his ears and the sudden silence that followed reminded him, strangely enough, of the battle of New York- when he carried that nuclear missile into space. It wasn’t necessarily the event itself that he was thinking of, but the horrifying, hollow feeling that swelled in his stomach when he saw that portal start to close. That disgusting sensation had resurfaced for a completely different reason this time, as it didn’t stem from the realisation that he was going to die, but because  _ he had failed Peter.

_ One of the few people in this world that he cared about. And he  _ failed _ him. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t let this happen. None of this would be happening if he had called back him back. He should have done something, as soon as Peter said his foster family wouldn’t let him go out. Who wouldn’t want their child to see  _ Tony Stark _ for god's sake? _

No matter what Stark, look out for our kid. No matter what Stark, look out for our kid. No matter what Stark, look out for our kid.

_ “How… How did you find out?” Tony managed to croak out. Happy looked at his longtime boss and friend with concern, his eyes filled with pity as he tried to work out how to break it down as gently as possible. _

_ “His foster parents only reported him missing a few hours ago. The reports stated he’d been gone more than 2 weeks.” _

_ He frowned at this. “Why would they only say something now?” _

_ Happy readjusted his blazer, dusting his sleeves to create a facade. “The social worker was about to visit. How were they gonna get away with a missing child? Besides, they get paid to support him weekly, so…” Happy trailed off, both of them knowing why.  _

_ Tony’s eyes glazed over as he tried to process this information, he started off into space as he tried to comprehend the thought of someone using his kid. These people had no idea how lucky they were to have him. He suddenly snapped out his stupor and went straight in to panicked mania. _

_ “Oh my God. Happy- Happy we have to find him. Start with… Start with CCTV around his foster home- and then uh- FRIDAY can help you with that. I’ll… I’ll track him. He wouldn’t have left his suit. Oh my God. Fuck, how could I let this happen? FRIDAY initiate milk carton protocol, ” _

_ “On it boss.” FRIDAY’s cool irish accent rang out. Immediately, the room began to glow blue with the hundreds of holograms that appeared out of thin air. He immediately threw himself into trying to track the 15 year old.  _

_ “Anything else you need boss?” Happy asked as he was leaving the room, trying to get Tony’s attention.  _

_ His question was met by deaf ears _

 

_ ***** _

 

Tony is man enough to admit when he makes mistakes and strong enough to forgive himself and move on, but one thing he will never forgive himself, for as long a shall live, was his inability to find Peter Parker the first time around.

To be fair, he only had Happy to help him comb through the five boroughs to look for him, but this time, he had almost all of the Avengers on hand to help him look for Peter. Statistically speaking, he was more likely to find him this way.

So why hasn’t he?

He even had Wanda Maximoff, mind reader and magic user extraordinaire helping him, and they hadn’t gotten anywhere. How could a 16 year old mentally block out a telepath? 

“Tony? Are you okay?” Natasha Romanov appeared out of nowhere, like she always does. Tony glanced towards her. She was leaning against the door frame of the lab, arms crossed, her usually cold face covered with concern for one of her oldest friends. “Do you need anything?”

Despite her betrayal during the Civil War, Natasha was the first person Tony forgave for her actions; Old habits and loyalties die hard, he should have seen it coming. Besides, she’s one of the few who listened to him in the first place. That was all he ever wanted from his team.

“I could do without the patronizing mom-friend act- in all honesty,” he retorted. Natasha ignored his remark. She moved from the frame and started to stroll towards Tony, picking up old blueprints that he hadn’t touched in months. Which was strange, Tony never kept physical plans anymore-

Ah. They were Peter’s.

“Are these his?” She asked kindly. “No offence, but your handwriting is nowhere near as neat as this.” Tony laughed at her light jab 

“Yeah, he prefered- prefers working with an actual paper and pencil. Said it helps him remember stuff better,” He scoffed “Millennials.”

“Actually, Peter told me he’s-”

“Gen Z, I know,” Tony cut her off “I called-call him that to piss him off.” He looked back down and started to concentrate on the data in front of him “Any updates?”

She shrugged. “Why else would I be here?” She stated plainly. “Wanda thinks she finally got through to him, she has a vague area but doesn’t have an exact location.” 

“I’m surprised she’s willing to help me.” Tony said dryly. “We weren’t exactly on the best of terms when we saw each other.” 

Natasha shrugged “People grow up Stark. She’s not an angry 18 year old anymore, trust me.”

“I’d take your word for it, but you don’t have the best track record with keeping it.” It was going to take a lot more than a few promises to mend his relationship with Maximoff. 

Natasha sat down on a stool opposite from him and started fiddling with the half finished gadget infront of her, lifting it up to eye level to inspect it in further detail. “She said that he has a deep emotional connection with the place, otherwise she would have never have found him.” They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, the only sound filling the room were the clicks coming from Tony’s keyboard. Natasha broke it, she could never stand unnecessary silence.

“What is this anyway?” she asked, forcing Tony to tear away from his work. He gazed at the object in her hands, considering it for a moment before he replied:

“It’s Peter’s actually. I think he said it was a communicator, like the ones from Star Wars.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You know he prefers Star Trek? He built that and the BB-8 droid for his best friend.” The fondness and pride was dripping from his voice.

“He would sit exactly where you are. Telling me different stories and ideas at a million miles an hour. Every Thursday after school.”

Natasha didn’t know how to respond. All she was supposed to do down here was tell Tony that Wanda might have found Peter, she wasn’t expecting, or prepared for, an emotional dump.

“Do you wanna go check the area out yourself? She said it was around in his old stomping grounds.”

Tony perked up instantly. His eyes brighter than they had been for the first time in months.

“In Queens? Oh my god. I know where he is.”

 

**** 

 

Tony didn’t bother suiting up, in fact he didn’t even tell the rest of the Avengers that he knew where Peter was. As soon as Natasha stopped talking he lept up from his stool and booked it to his room, throwing on the cleanest shirt and tracksuits he had. The more casual the better, he didn’t want Peter to realise that he was being followed. Plus, he had to be as incognito as possible, considering where he was planning to go.

He didn’t even call Happy, he hopped into the cheapest car he owned (a 2015 Audi S5, in case you were wondering) and left.

He made a quick pit stop to a certain bodega, picking up a certain order that included extra flatbread and a pack of gummy worms. He kept walking further down the block to the nearest florist and picked out a simple bouquet of white tiger lilies. He even stopped by a street vendor to pick up fresh, hot churros. 

Once he got back into the car, he carefully set everything he bought on the passenger seat, just as he got an incoming call.

“Stark! Where the hell are you?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Calm down Rogers, can’t a man go to the store once in a while?”

“Tony you can’t just up and leave while we’re-”

“Oh! No… We’re- connect- break- up- bye!” He promptly hung up.

Tony could finally focus on his drive through Forest Hills, passing by the different avenues and streets that Peter had grown up around, until he finally got on the freeway.

 

_ “You sure you want me to tag along kid?” _

_ “Of course sir! It’s about time you met him you know?” Peter played with the sleeves of his sweater. “He’s always been important to me- You are too don’t worry! But he was a different kind of important, well actually I guess not but... and uh... Yeah I guess… I probably don’t make sense but… Yeah.” _

_ “I’m honoured underoos. Really I am.” _

 

_ ***** _

Tony slowed down as he pulled out of the freeway and onto smaller and quieter backroads, his mood becoming increasingly sombre as he got closer and closer to where he knew Peter was. 

 

_ “You sure we’re in the right place? It’s so quiet, it’s like we aren’t even in New York anymore.” _

_ Peter solemnly smiled “Yeah. That’s what he loved about it. He wanted us to move here when we had the money but…” _

 

He pulled up to the front gates, and the guard waved him through, not questioning him at all. Eventually, Tony pulled up to a parking lot, carefully gathering the goods in his arms before starting the long walk.

 

_ “I have heart problems kid, would it have killed you to warn me we’d be walking up a hill?” Tony cried “I think this hill might kill me!” _

_ Peter laughed the bright, joyful tones were carried away by the wind. _

 

After another 5 minute walk, he finally arrived. To the grave of Benjamin Parker. Tragically beside him, was May Parker.

Sat cross legged in front of both tombstones, was Peter Benjamin Parker himself. His elbows were resting on his knees, chin sat on his hands.

“...Just, don’t know what to do.”

It was the first time in 18 months that he had heard Peter’s voice. It didn’t have that loud high pitched excitement and wonder anymore; His voice was sad, quiet even, as if every word he spoke was a burden, like he didn’t  _ want _ to speak anymore.

“Whatever I try to do… Trying to keep NYC safe or running from my shitty foster family, it backfires so  _ hard _ .”

Tony’s heart swelled with sorrow, he knew he failed Peter, but to hear it from the mouth of the babe himself was a different kind of heartbreak.

“I’m just tired y’know?” Peter sighed heavily. “Sorry I haven’t seen you guys in awhile. I’ll be back soon. I’ll have something to bring next time.”

He gave each tombstone a tight hug. He took his time to greet both of them goodbye properly, going as far as speaking Spanish to his uncle, and Italian to his aunt.

“Espero que estés bien tio.  Non bruciare il cibo zia! Te amo!”

Peter rose slowly, dusting the dirt and dust from his old baggy jeans and staring at the stones again. He finally turned around.

“Mr. Stark?”

Peter’s face had lost its soft features, his cheekbones more evident and his eyes more gaunt, the lack of sleep and consistent meals had clearly taken a toll on him. The baggy blue Midtown Tech jumper was big on him before, but now it was drowning him. There were holes in the sleeves acting as makeshift gloves. His curls were long and messy, left untamed by hair gel and without a wash, it made him look even younger than he actually was. In his right hand was a tired, beaten old rucksack ripped in several places and being held together by duct tape. Tony knew that used to be home to his new suit. God knows where that thing was now. But that wasn’t his main concern. Peter was alive. That’s what was important. Peter was  _ alive. _

“Hey kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all i am so sister sorry this took so long to be updated, i have so much going on irl + i procrastinated this HARD. it was reading the comments and stuff that finally made me want to sit down and write this chapter so @ all the ppl who comment you man are god tier. everyone say thank u to them. AAAANDDD thank you guys so much for 1k kudos!!!! i was fuckin SHOOK when i saw, i didn't think this would get 10 kudos, let alone 1000???  
> anyway i hope this was satisfying cos i honestly have no clue when i'll next be able to write. i know what's gonna happen it's just finding the TIME that's difficult smh  
> if the spanish or italian are incorrect im sorry!!! my spanish is rusty and i had to google translate the italian so if it's wrong pls correct me!!!  
> thx for reading, constructive criticism is welcome (especially if any british slang slips in there rip) cos i don't proof read blah blah blah u know the drill 
> 
> till next time  
> anklusmos


	8. CHAPTER 8

_That was truly one of the worst moments of my life_ , Peter sulked as he walked through the streets. He quickly realised that smelly sewage water would be a permanent feature of his homemade ~~pyjamas~~  suit. Peter went down the narrow alleyway he dashed his other rucksack in and changed in to a less offensive smelling change of clothes

Usually, when Peter was having a terrible day and his Parker luck had screwed him over once again, he would complain about his day to his uncle, or aunt. They would pat his back, spew out generic (but comforting) advice like “everything would work out in the end”, and order from his favourite takeout place  

But he didn’t exactly have that anymore, did he?

But Peter didn’t spend too long brooding over the loss of his family, he had bigger fish to fry. Something the size of a Kingpin

_‘If I need to exterminate all arachnids to conquer all five boroughs, I will.’_

On the bright side, at least his steakout was kind of successful, he wanted to find out who this Kingpin guy was and he got exactly what he wanted.

Kingpin was Wilson Fisk huh?

Now that he knew who he was and what he vaguely had planned for the boroughs, he could plan how to stop him. Pros, Save his city, including his neighbourhood; Cons, he could possibly be killed at the hands of a grown man (or ‘exterminated’ as Fisk so kindly put it)

If only there was a ‘Dealing with Tyrannical Businessmen Hellbent on Killing You For Dummies’. Looks like he would have to write his own. But Mr. Stark would have had one. He was always thought Mr. Stark had everything prepared for every single worst case scenario. He thought that Mr.Stark would always be there to support him.

He was obviously wrong.

Peter finally stopped sulking over his death threat and mentor long enough to notice his surroundings. Huh. Back in Forest Hills. How ironic. His muscle memory went so far as to walk all the way up to his old apartment complex. Peter looked up at the 6 storey building, the well lit front windows gave the building a happy glow, making it clear that everyone was living their lives as normal. Mr. Hernandez was probably cursing at telenovela characters in spanish. The Ancianos were probably cooking enough filipino food for the entire complex. Ms. Campliani was probably teaching a piano lesson.

Peter’s repressed nostalgia came flooding back. He knew that on a Wednesday night like this, he should have been sprawled across the sofa, binge watching a new Netflix series while his aunt attempts not to burn the food. If Ben were still alive then-

No. This was going in to dangerous, depressing territory.

He glanced one last time at the building, and continued walking. Peter knew that there was a shelter nearby, but he couldn’t go there without the risk of bumping into someone he used to know. It was far, but if he had to walk for another 30 minutes to get to Cypress Hills, he would do it.

 Once he got there, he was glad there was no judgement from the kind volunteers. No one questioned why he was on the streets, they just asked how long he planned to stay, a hot food and shower, if he needed a change of clothes and if they could offer him any services to help get him off the streets. He gladly accepted the change of clothes, and they managed to do his laundry. He loved his trusty hoodies but they were in desperate need of a wash. Finally, once he was in a fresh pair of sweatpants with a thick sweatshirt to match, he settled in to the camper bed, and fell in to a fretful sleep

_The light was buzzing. That annoying, persistent, insistent humming that all fluorescent lights give off. The room was so cold. Why was it cold? He had so many layers on. May always made sure that he always had at least three layers on. Would it kill them to turn the heating up? Everything was so… Sterile. Why was everything so sterile? Where the fuck was he?_

_Oh yeah. May died. He was officially on his own. He was here to meet his new foster family. If it meant getting out of this shit hole of a ‘half-way home’ he would happily comply._

_Suddenly he was in a small, cramped room. So small he could stretch his arms out and touch both walls. He looked at his phone. 10pm. Why hadn’t anyone called for dinner yet? Was he actually going to get dinner tonight? He was too nervous to walk down the narrow stairs and ask his foster mother for anything. After the cold rejection when he asked if he could see Mr.Stark, he didn’t want to try anything else._

_“Parker!” a deep voice boomed out of nowhere_

_And then he was arguing. Insult after insult, comment after comment, manipulation and emotional blackmail at its finest. The demanding and terrifying voice was winning. The resounding sound of a slap rang through the room. The stinging sensation on his cheek was nothing compared to the goons he dealt with as spidey.  The one tether he had to the outside world and his old life was suddenly snatched from his hand; a million pieces on the ground. No more Ned. No more MJ. No more memes to laugh at._

_He snapped. He grabbed his rucksacks and began throwing every belonging he had in there. It was sad to see his whole life roughly packed in to two backpacks. He strapped on his web shooters, opened the window as quietly as he could. No turning back._

_“Mr. Stark?” he finally asked after the third attempt to call him on a payphone._

_He didn’t hear anything else other than:_

_“I don’t have time for you Peter.” Whatever he had said after that was lost in the ringing that had gone through his ears. What happened to always being there for him?_

_After that he only had $4.32 to his name._

 

Old habits die hard, as Peter woke up at 7am on the dot. After eating the biggest breakfast he’d had in 6 months, he thanked the compassionate people at the shelter and left. His nightmare compilation from last night was a sign that there was only one place left to go. It was time to visit his Aunt and Uncle. He hadn’t visited the cemetery since laying his aunt to rest. It was no problem travelling to the grave site, seeing as it was only a 20 minute walk away. He didn’t even need to worry about bringing flowers, he could always discreetly pluck a few from a local park before he arrived. It was going to be nice, he could finally talk to his aunt for the first time in a while, his Italian was getting a little rusty. Ben would probably be a little disappointed that he had dropped out of school, but appreciate the effort he’s made to keep learning anyway.

Yeah. This was going to be a great day. What could go wrong?

 

*****

“Mr. Stark?”

 Peter heard his unmistakable heavy panting from a mile away, but thought his exhaustion was playing tricks on his senses.

Mr. Stark looked older, even though Peter had seen him mere months ago. He no longer had the nonchalant appearance he maintained during their after school sessions, in its place was a more anxious, stressed out aura, as though he was expecting a fight at any given moment. His shoulder sank like he was carrying the weight of the universe on in them, his hair no longer a deep dark brunette with the odd grey streak, it was practically blonde; He had more lines etched lightly on his face, it was no longer just laugh lines that Peter had most definitely caused, but prominent ones on his forehead and around his cheeks, a sign that he had been frowning far too much. The most shocking of all? He wasn’t even wearing a stupid walmart shirt inside of a $4000 Armani blazer. Mr. Stark looked so… Human. In sweatpants and a T-Shirt that Peter had given to him. Just another person paying respects to a loved one in a graveyard.

 “Hey kid.” Mr.Stark managed to croak out.

 They stared at each other for an eternity. Their last phone call echoed in Peter’s conscience

  _I don’t have time for you Peter_

 “Your Italian accent is terrible Pete.”

 Usually, Peter would have a quick comeback or a witty remark when he got insulted by his loved ones. Was Mr. Stark still a loved one? After everything?

So he stayed silent.

“I… brought some things for your aunt and uncle” He lifted up the bags of goodies.

Peter still stayed silent. Mr. Stark sighed in defeat.

“Look kid, I… should have done more.” He walked over to place the beautiful bouquet of gleaming white tiger lilies in between the tombstones.

Peter still stayed silent.

“I know a sandwich and some churros is practically putting a bandaid on an amputee but… Can we talk? Please?” Peter had spent many years admiring Tony Stark the ingenious engineer, later Iron Man the Earth’s best defender; never had seen him look so crushed and filled with regret.

“Okay sir.We can talk.”

 

*****

They walked in extremely awkward and uncomfortable silence to a bench nearby. It had a beautiful view of the little greenery that could be found in New York, the breeze was light, but strong enough to force tree branches to sway with its rhythm.

Once they sat a respectful distance away from each other, Mr. Stark put the white bag between them. Peter was so hungry he couldn’t help but take a look at what was within.

Oh my god. Churros, gummy worms and his exact order from Delmars. Stay strong Peter.

“You know I’m not one to do this,” Mr. Stark tried to joke “But I really do apologise. You could never understand how sorry I am that I let this happen to you.” He tried to look at Peter in the eye, but Peter couldn’t bring himself to look back. His ratty trainers and the ground below suddenly became very interesting-

“Peter?”

Mr. Stark grabbed his attention.

“If I had just listened to you-”

“Yeah. You should have.” Peter suddenly cut him off. “Who says that to a grieving teenager? ‘I don’t have time for you’ No offence sir but what the fuck! I trusted you. I just wanted to talk to someone… and you left me! First Ben, then May,” he took a deep breath, he felt the water start to form but he tried so hard to will his tears not to start streaming down his face “And then- and then… You.” He whispered, so quietly that he was sure Mr. Stark didn’t catch it. “They were so… so… difficult to live with. My foster family. I called to see if I could visit for the afternoon. And you told me- you told me you didn’t have time for me.”

“Kid-”

“And then- then you-” Peter ever got to finish his sentence, a sob suddenly erupted from his body, the months of being unable to grieve and stress of living on the streets had finally gotten to him. His head dropped in to his hands, his face suddenly soaking from the tears that wouldn’t stop coming. He couldn’t even form a coherent sentence anymore.

He was suddenly engulfed by a pair of sturdy arms, the smell of fresh laundry detergent and a faint hint of motor oil lingered around him. Once he started, he couldn’t stop. This was the first time since his aunts passing that he had been able to process his emotions.

He could hear Mr.Stark comforting him, he could feel him stroking and playing with his hair as he assured him that it was okay to cry, promising him that he would never ever do this to him again. It felt endless, the amount of sadness that Peter carried with him. He stayed in the embrace for a lifetime, Mr.Stark held him until his breathing slowed down and his crying was reduced to hiccups.

“This is a terrible time to mention it but… You know the churros are cold now right?”

Peter couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous comment. But he appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood.

“You’re right. I never should have said that I didn’t have time for you when you needed me the most. I should have prioritised you. Not the stupid Avengers. They’re grown adults, they can manage themselves. You have and always will be my main concern from now. I swear it on JARVIS.”

Peter finally let go of him, and looked him dead in the eye.

“You swear it on JARVIS?”

“I’ll swear it on the universe if that’s what it takes for you to believe me.”

He nodded slowly and assured him that he did.

“I might not have an enhanced metabolism, but I am ravenous. What do you think, should we finish those cold churros?”

Peter couldn’t help but agree.

 

*****

They stayed at the cemetery until sunset, they eventually walked down to Mr. Starks audi, but Peter was hesitant to go with him

“I just don’t want to intrude. There are other places I could crash at until the Avengers-”

“Nope.” Tony cut him off. “Screw Rogers and his posse. You come first, the Pepper, then Rhodey, then Happy, then-” he began to list everyone from Miss Potts assistant to his favourite hot dog stand “ and THEN Rogers. That’s the list of priority right now. The old post man who called me ‘Tony Stank’ was pretty high up, but he passed away recently”

Peter smiled and rolled his eyes at his eccentric mentor. It seemed like they were both full of the joy they used to have around each other.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go with you. As long as we get to watch Star Trek.”

“The original series?”

Peter scoffed “Of course.”

Mr. Stark had a soft smile on his face as they buckled up for the drive upstate

“Deal”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> believe it or not, i have risen from the dead to churn this chapter out for yall.  
> it was very exciting to write, but the way i have written it kinda forces you to re read from like chapter 5 or 6 otherwise ur gonna be hella confused lmao  
> thank you very much for the comments you lot leave, i read every single one and im very happy to see that people actually enjoy the shit im putting out there.  
> i mainly wanted to get a chapter out before endgame came out in the uk (lol i did not) while i know my boi tony stank is still alive BUT if there are spoilers on here i will personally castrate you after deleting ur comment x  
> anyway!! hopefully ill finish this before ffh, there's only 3/4 chapters left to wrap everything up :)
> 
> see ya soon i hope,  
> anklusmos


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